


how does the sun even fit in the sky

by racheltuckerrr



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: F/M, how long til i can listen to this song and not disintegrate completely? no one knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 17:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/racheltuckerrr/pseuds/racheltuckerrr
Summary: i was prompted to write something based on 'how long' so this is my take on it.





	how does the sun even fit in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> requested by @whatsasophie on tumblr, thank you :)  
ps. feel free to hmu with any ideas there!

****Persephone sidles up to her husband's office, only mildly unsteady on her feet, and enters without knocking. She knows full well that the fact she dares to do so alone is announcement enough of who she is, even if she doesn't frequent this part of the house all that much anymore. 

He knows too, because he doesn't even bother looking up. It annoys her but not enough to deter her from walking up to his big mahogany desk to pluck the ledger out of his hand.

"What?" Hades grumbles with a side of irritation that Persephone feels like she hasn't earned yet. No time like the present.

He's still not looking up and Persephone has had enough of trying to send messages in bottles that never reach the shore so she walks around the desk with purpose and seats herself in his lap like an anchor so he has no choice but to encircle her around the waist.

_ Good. _Step one.

Persephone steadies herself on his shoulders as she swings a leg over his knees to straddle him proper, then grinds her hips down a couple times for good measure until she can _ feel _ that she truly has his attention. His mind may not be interested in whatever she has to say, but his body is hers and there ain't nothing Hades can do about that.

They sit like that for a while, with her on top and gently rocking back and forth as he holds on to her weight like it's the last handrail on a bumpy ride, and Persephone almost feels guilty about it. She reaches out to smooth the crinkles in his lapels and leaves her palms flat on his chest, because even from his lap he feels so far away and she wants to feel rooted to him again, wants…she _ wants_. Or it's the liquor in her that does, but it don't matter either way.

That's not what she came here for, even if Persephone's blood is singing for him too.

She feels the weight of his thumbs pressing into her sides. Testing. Like she's some sort of wild animal that might bolt at the first sign of a too sudden movement. Sad thing is, he's not wrong about that at all.

"Look at me, husband."

He finally does, and she can tell she's already rattled him real good. Payback is a bitch sometimes, even for a king. 

"If this is about the girl, I'm not in the mood," he says and his thumb hooks a bit harder into the fabric covering the flesh over her hipbone. 

Persephone is not exactly what anyone would call a curvy woman, not like her mama and definitely not like Hera who has all the right shapes in all the right places. But Hades never seemed bothered by her skinny bones and only cherished her sharp edges, determined to fill them all with his love until time and resentment turned them into painful thorns in his side instead.

Now, Persephone's not so sure what her husband even likes about her anymore.

"_Hades_," she says his name with as much kindness as she can find within herself. "How long have we been married?"

He hums and the hand around Persephone's waist tightens just a fraction. Might not be that he likes her much anymore, but he never stopped loving her and neither did she. And therein lies their problem.

"Since the world began."

"I don't mind if you look at other girls now and then," she says, stroking his shirt. A blatant lie, but it feels necessary. They have enough power over each other as it is. "It's only natural, I suppose."

"I'm not like -"

"_\- your brothers_. I know that." Persephone itches to reach for the flask she keeps hidden between her breasts, but that would defeat the purpose of this conversation. 

Hades never takes her seriously when he knows she's been drinking. But then Persephone is always drinking these days. Funny thing, that.

"I know what you intended to do," she tells him in a mock whisper and feels him stiffen at the words, whereas before he almost seemed to be enjoying her ministrations. 

She knows very well that her husband wanted to make her jealous, and he might have even succeeded in doing so, but that doesn't mean that she's just going to throw in the towel and let him have his little victory. 

What the war they’re waging between themselves is for, and why it would even be worth it to be the winner is as murky as what she’s currently trying to achieve, but Persephone tightens her fingers in his shirt anyway, just this side of vicious, as her nails scrape over his chest. She holds him in a vice grip, partly in warning, and also to keep her balance as she leans in to bring her lips to his ear.

"But bringing her home just to spite me," she whispers “lover, that was just plain stupid.”

She can pinpoint the exact moment his blood turns cold under her hands and Persephone knows she's about to be kicked out before he grabs her waist and hoists her out of his lap with an uncharacteristically strong grip.

Hades is a mighty powerful god, those hands can wield the strongest metal, but he’s only ever gentle when his hands are touching her. Even when she more than deserved his wrath, he never once laid a hand on her in anger. 

No, his tell is the silence, and she knows the sound of his well enough by now. 

"Go to bed, Persephone."

He doesn't look up again and she can tell already that he's not planning on joining her in bed tonight. Hades knows she hates sleeping alone, and she knows he does too when she's down here, but she's not about to beg her own damn husband to keep her company.

Persephone does take a swig of her flask then, right where she's standing, all the while keeping her eyes locked on his dark irises. 

Some of the alcohol spills out and droops down her chin, and she thinks he might be about to reach out and wipe it off, but Persephone doesn't give him the chance as she turns her back on him and stomps out of his office.

* * *

She finds him in the throne room, sitting in the only chair that's set up on the podium above the marble steps that separate the king from everyone else. 

The queen's chair used to be right there next to his, but Persephone hasn't used it in so long that Hades must have decided it was just taking up space.

There's only a couple of shades standing around, as well as a few judges, but as soon as they recognize the queen they all scurry to give them the room, and it's probably for the best. She wants to have words with her husband about the young Orpheus, and it's better that they have no audience for it. 

Safer too.

“What are you so afraid of a damn mortal boy for?” Persephone doesn't slow down as she steams into the room, her heels stomping up the steps until she is standing right in front of his throne, looking down at Hades.

“Have a drink, why don’t you?”

“I’ve had enough, thank you.” She tilts her head, her gaze piercing. "And I've had enough of this as well."

Hades sighs, and she knows well enough the face he is making. He is gearing up for a speech and Persephone is certain she doesn't want to hear it.

“You said you’re not like your brothers," she tells him before Hades has a chance to open his mouth. That gets his attention. "Well, I'm not like their wives," Persephone announces with all the bitterness that statement is meant to convey. 

She's not like Hera. She doesn't know how to shrug all the hurt off or stuff it away in a closet somewhere. She's much better at spitting it back in his face until they both have the bitter taste of everything that went wrong in their mouths.

And she's not like Amphitrite. Persephone has her own duties, her own domain. She's not only wife to Hades or even queen of the underworld, just as he is not only her husband or her lover. 

"What do you want of me?" Hades asks finally, and she levels her gaze at him. 

"Let them go."

He snorts, and Persephone is not surprised by his response. It was worth a try, but she knows she won't get through to him like this. Trouble is, she doesn't quite know if she's even capable of it anymore.

Persephone sighs and sits down on the great big marble steps in front of her husband's throne. Her shoulders drop and the anger evaporates at once, leaving her bereft and so very tired.

"Don't you at least remember what it was like?" She finds herself asking, though her back is still turned. Maybe that's why the question comes so easily. "To be that young, that hopeful? That _in_ _love_."

Persephone still doesn't turn, but she hears him resettle in his chair behind her before he answers.

"Seems like a lifetime ago."

"It was, lover." She smiles sadly and finally turns back to look at him. The air of wistfulness that follows is the first genuine moment they've shared in what feels like forever. "For us, it was. But for them, it's now."

Hades nods slowly, and Persephone feels the first spark of tentative hope bloom in her chest.

"Wouldn't you like the chance to start all over again if you could?"

She's often wondered about that before, but never dared ask her husband directly. To her surprise, he shakes his head right away.

"Why not?"

"Because it's you and me," he says simply, as if that explains everything. 

Persephone tilts her head. "I don't understand, lover." 

She leans her weight back on her elbows to look at him from a more comfortable position, her palms pressing into the cool marble under her skin.

"Even with all that time you're gone. Even if you prefer the drink over me. Even if you can't stand the sight of this old man anymore," Hades explains, his expression solemn, but his tone serious. He means every word. "I wouldn't trade our life together for anything."

Persephone swallows. Her mouth runs dry and her heart has suddenly taken up residence in her throat. She wants to say something, but she can't even begin to find the words.

So she just looks at her husband, and prays he understands.

"I'll grant your request, wife."

* * *

He underestimated the boy. 

That becomes very clear to Hades as soon as the notes begin to fill his halls and his heart, but what blindsides him the most is the song the mortal is singing. It’s an old song alright, and Hades knows it well, from what seems like another life now. 

He recognizes the ancient tune instantly, and it fills him up in a way that’s become almost unfamiliar now that he hadn’t heard it in so long. Hades hears it now, and it calls to him with an intensity he couldn’t have prepared for. 

But what’s more, it makes him _ remember_.

A time before walls and factories and fighting, a time before the king and queen’s melody ever fell out of tune. A time when Hades himself was much younger than he is now, but not altogether that young, standing in a field of flowers in the light of the sun. 

Looking at a girl. Looking at his wife.

One look at her now tells him that Persephone is remembering too.

Remembering a time when things were not so complicated between them. A time when Hades was only a man, admiring the gentle slope of her shoulders as the sun cast its glow on her golden brown skin. 

A time when he reached for the hand of a country girl with muddy clothes and dirt under her fingernails, and laid one third of the world at her feet. Gave her his entire heart to keep.

And hasn't once thought to ask for it back ever since.

Hades is brought back out of the memory as the boy’s distant words reach his ears, and for a moment he feels an absolute dread creep up his spine as he registers their meaning. 

_ Already gone? _No.

His head snaps to his wife in an instant, only to find her looking right back at him with a stricken expression on her face. It’s only now that Hades notices the tears, even as they seem to be steadily raining down her cheeks. 

She looks about as overwhelmed as he feels, and he can’t take the distance anymore. Not with their melody in his ears and the memory of seeing her for the first time playing in his mind’s eye. He takes a step toward her, then another and another. By the time he reaches her, Persephone is all but leaning into the space between them. 

The only logical thing for him to do is catch her.

The flower blooms in his palm without any effort at all, and he keeps her hand clasped in his after she tucks it into his lapel. They dance to the beat of their joined hearts, and as his wife leans her head over his heart, for a moment Hades forgets that there is anything else but her.

"Lover," he whispers into the crown of her head, afraid of breaking the moment, but still needing to ask. "How long will we be married?"

Persephone lifts her head a little to look up into his eyes as she answers him just as quietly, her voice soft but firm. 

"Until the _end_ _of_ _time_."

He draws her back against his chest and leans his head over hers in an embrace that neither of them will want to break for a long while.

Hades is holding the world in his arms again, and he will be damned if he lets go.


End file.
